A/N—Dal Segno al Fine is on hiatus this week, as Chapter 5 is giving me fits. I've been sitting on this piece for a while, but Certain People on Tumblr are hassling me to show it. Apologies to all who don't like rated M stuff…I was bullied into posting this. ;)

This is actually a deleted scene from my Second Chance story, slightly edited to work better as a stand-alone scene. This little vignette is set right after Erik survives being shot in the tunnels.

Doctor's Orders

2016

Night had fallen across the city, the soft evening air drifting in through the open window. Erik leaned against the headboard, mask and wig discarded for the night, bracing his strapped left shoulder and watching the woman he loved prepare for bed. Freshly out of her bath, Christine sat at the dressing table, brush in hand, smoothing her long curls into a braid before joining him. She caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled. Erik said nothing, but his dark eyes were gleaming with desire, and one corner of his mouth quirked upwards. Christine felt a slow wave of heat move up her chest and shoulders, and she blushed.

"How do you do that," she whispered, "make me want you with just one look?"

Erik smiled wryly. "The feeling is entirely mutual, my dear, but I am not sure what to do about it, as I am forbidden to move." He shifted slightly and grimaced in pain.

She had come so close to losing him in the darkness below the Opera. That Erik had survived at all was testament to his indomitable will and nothing more. She had been certain neither of them would emerge alive and unscathed, yet here he lay in their bed, slowly and painfully recovering.

Dimming the remaining gaslights, Christine slid the silky robe from her shoulders then came to sit beside him, running her hand through the short, soft strands of his remaining hair and down, stroking his cheek. Erik leaned into her caress, his eyes closing in pleasure, and she leaned over, softly kissing his thin, scarred lips. He shifted, one arm reaching for her, then hissed in pain.

Guiltily she sat up. "I'm so sorry, Erik."

He sighed. "It wasn't your fault." Uncomfortably, he shifted again, and she smiled mischievously.

"Perhaps I can ease your discomfort…"

His eyes widened as she pressed him gently back against the headboard, smiling wickedly. She met his eyes and then ducked her head, flushing a becoming clear carnation pink. Fascinated with this sudden change in his normally sweet and reserved wife, Erik could only nod encouragingly, his mouth suddenly dry with anticipation.

Only starlight and the lights from the city below illuminated the room as she pulled the coverlet back slowly and climbed onto the bed, rucking her nightgown up around her hips, straddling his thighs, and lovingly smoothed back a stray lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead.

"Christine…"

She laid two fingers over his mouth, smiling. "Hush. Hold still."

"Yes ma'am," he murmured.

Slowly she unbuttoned his nightshirt, pushing it open against his shoulders, carefully avoiding the bandages so starkly white against his pale skin and leaned forward. Her small hands stroked across his scarred body in gentle swirls. Erik leaned his head back, eyes shut, barely breathing, as she kissed his bared chest, her lips trailing across his bruised collarbone. He smelled of clean linen and soap, and under her fingertips she could feel his accelerated heartbeat. Christine braced her hands against the headboard and bent down, her breath softly ticking the side of his face. Slowly her lips teased the curve of his ear, his throat, then slid a hand behind his neck, cradling his head, tipping his face upwards and meeting his eager lips with her own. One hand wandered downwards.

He groaned into her mouth as her fingers stroked the fabric so tight against his arousal. "Christine…"

"Ssshhhh…." she whispered, her hand stealing now between the layers of fabric to find him impossibly hard and aching for her touch. It had been too long since they had lain together. She wanted nothing more than to feel his weight above her, anchoring her to the soft mattress, feeling him moving, thrusting within her, her legs wrapped tightly around his, never wanting to let him go, tasting the salt of his skin amidst the sandalwood and smoke as she clutched his shoulders and kissed him…but he was injured, she could not ask that of him. But perhaps there were other possible options…

Erik's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, the long fingers of his right hand twisted into the sheets as she stroked him. He took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to relax the tension in his injured shoulder as her small hand teased and tantalized, increasing his burning desire. She freed his body from the tangled bedclothes and, greatly daring, slipped downwards.

His eyes flew open. "Christine, what are you...ahhhhh…" he gasped as she took the tip of his length into the warm cavern of her mouth. Incredulous, he tensed and tried to pull away, but her eyes held a new, impish sparkle as she grew bolder, licking and stroking him with her tongue and lips. Christine smiled to herself as his breathing grew ragged and his hand tangled in her loose hair.

"Oh god, Christine," he moaned, as her actions drove him higher toward his release. He was shaking under her, hips thrusting blindly. "Oh god, stop now….I'm going to….I'm…aaaaahhhhhh." He arched off the bed, straining and gasping as he climaxed in her mouth, his glorious amber voice crying out deliriously from the intense waves of pleasure, crying out her name. It was the most erotic thing she had ever heard.

Finally she released him, feeling him slowly soften. Half fearfully, she looked up at her husband to find him flushed, a sheen of perspiration across his scarred chest and face, his head thrown back, his chest still heaving as he gasped for air. The grip on her curls relaxed; he slumped against the pillows, utterly spent.

Black eyes opened slowly focusing on her pink face. "Where," Erik said hoarsely, "did you learn to do that?"

She ducked her head shyly. "I…heard the girls…talking about it…at the Opera once. Did I do it wrong? Did you not like it?"

He shook his head in wonderment. "How can you even ask that? My god, Christine…" His good arm urged her upwards and she curled beside him, careful not to put any pressure on his body.

"Just when I think you can no longer surprise me…."